


Diving To The Bottom Of Pleasure

by vondrostes



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Harry, Come Marking, F/M, Feminine Harry Styles, Friends to Lovers, Genderfluid Harry Styles, One Night Stands, Other, Pearl Necklace, Riding, Trans Harry Styles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:07:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22273048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vondrostes/pseuds/vondrostes
Summary: A pearl necklace for her pearl necklace.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	Diving To The Bottom Of Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a photo of Harry at the 2018 Christmas party (the peas!) which is where the OMC (who isn't really an OMC) came from. He's basically a tour manager of sorts, afaik, but none of that is really necessary to understand the fic.
> 
> Twitter: @vondrostes & @vondrostesupd8s  
> Tumblr: @vondrostes  
> IG: @vondrostesupd8s

Last Christmas, James had missed his opportunity. This Christmas, he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. 

The Christmas party was sandwiched in between everyone’s work and family obligations, butting up against what felt like a thousand other events that were infinitely more important—to everyone but James, at least. Harry certainly hadn’t made things any easier by hopping continents all throughout the month of December, instilling in James and everyone else on the team with a seemingly permanent feeling of jet lag that James was still suffering from more than a week later. 

In addition to the general feeling in the air, this Christmas was a lot different than the last in more than a few ways. Harry wasn’t still coping with the aftermath of a breakup for one. For another, Harry wasn’t the same Harry anymore, depending on how you looked at it. 

James had been one of the first ones on the team to get the memo. Internally, Harry was to be referred to with ‘she’ and ‘her’, unless otherwise requested. 

James liked to think that he hadn’t been surprised by the announcement, that he and Harry had been close enough after tour last year that she could have confided in him privately, even. She hadn’t, of course, but there were a million reasons why that might have been the case.

None of that mattered once Harry finally arrived, dressed in a cashmere cream jumper and matching swishy trousers that fluttered around her baby pink loafers. James’s eyes, however, were focused solely on the pearl necklace at her throat.

It wasn’t even the first time James had seen Harry wearing it; the damn thing was practically glued on and had been ever since she’d gotten it—as a gift, James had learned later—but for some reason, it was the only thing James could keep his eyes on as Harry made her rounds, shaking everyone’s hands, hugging everyone she already knew, and then finally, she walked over to James with a soft smile.

“How are you?” she said politely, placing both hands in James’s and leaving him at a loss for what to do with them.

“Fine,” he replied. “Better now that we don’t have tour to worry about for a few months.”

Harry’s smile slowly curved upward toward her left ear. “But won’t you miss me?” she said, barely giving James a second to answer before she was moving on to the next group of people she was in dire need of reconnecting with.

James didn’t get much of a chance to speak with Harry again until the party began to die down, their friends and coworkers leaving in droves as Harry lingered, exhibiting no signs whatsoever of feeling pressured to follow their lead. James kept a careful eye on her—and her pearl necklace—as he sipped his eggnog, spiked with an extra shot of rum for courage.

Even still, he didn’t muster up the courage to approach her directly until the building was nearly empty. James cleared his throat as he walked over to her, her head popping up in surprise as she paused with one arm through the sleeve of her Gucci overcoat, the other still dangling freely at her side.

“I was wondering if you’d like to have a drink together,” James said, doing his best to disguise his nervousness. “Just you and I.”

Harry’s smile was quick to return. “I thought you’d never ask,” she replied in a soft voice. “Your place or mine?”

It was somehow still a shock when she was getting undressed in his flat less than an hour later, her body being exposed by degrees as she took off every article of clothing with an agonising amount of slowness. It wasn’t until she reached up to unclasp the pearls at her neck that James found his voice again.

“No, don’t,” he said quickly, stilling her hands. “Leave them.”

Harry obeyed without question and moved over to the edge of the bed, clad in nothing now but her necklace, her hair a rumpled mess from where the neck of her jumper had pulled at the curls. There was a bit of stubble growing in at her jaw; James thought she’d never looked lovelier than she did right then. 

“How should we—” he started to say, only to be cut off by the press of her mouth against his, hot and wet and startling. 

“Let me take care of everything,” Harry told him as she scooted back a bit to straddle his thighs instead.

Her hands were slightly chill against James’s overheated skin when she pulled his cock out of his trousers and into her mouth, and he had to squeak out a warning only a few minutes in, terrified that this would all be over before it could properly begin just because he hadn’t been prepared for how good she’d actually ended up being.

Harry pulled off with a soft laugh and moved away to get something out of her bag. Lube, James realised when she stepped back into the light again. She didn’t put on much of a show as she got herself ready, but it didn’t matter. James’s gaze was wholly transfixed on the way the arch of her back as she fingered herself open showcased the pearls gleaming against her sweat-slick collarbones.

James squeezed the base of his cock, suddenly worried he might not even be able to wait until he was inside her, but then she turned to him with a condom in hand, and it was just enough distraction to pull him back from the edge until they were both ready to continue.

“I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” James found himself saying aloud as Harry lowered herself onto his cock with one hand braced against the headboard. His hands were at her hips, steadying her, his teeth lodged in his lower lip as he tried to focus on anything but her bloody pearls and the vice-tight grip around his cock.

Harry let out a soft laugh as she rocked forward experimentally. “We were always going to end up here,” she said with confidence. “I could see it in your face the first time we met.”

James couldn’t remember when he’d first become conscious of the crush he’d had on Harry, but maybe she’d known before even he did. Now he couldn’t help but wonder where they’d end up next.

It was hard to think about that, though, hard to think about anything at all, really, when Harry was grinding figure-eights against his hips before finally pulling herself nearly off his cock before dropping back down again. And with every movement, her pearls bounced rhythmically against her chest, back and forth, up and down, a sole point of focus as James laid there and allowed himself to be used solely for her pleasure.

She came with a gasp and a quiet cry, her cock spurting come onto James’s belly as he tightened his grip on her hips, fighting against the feeling of her clenching down hard against his cock. He expected her to pull off, to change positions afterward, but once she’d recovered from her orgasm she continued to bounce on his cock with renewed enthusiasm and a look of determination on her face.

James let himself get right up to the edge again before changing his mind. “Can I come on you?” he asked quickly, not trusting himself to hold back much longer.

Harry looked surprised, but she rolled off of him obligingly and onto her back, her limbs loose and open as she waited for James to straddle her waist with his cock in hand.

“Try not to get any in my hair,” she advised as she waited for him to come.

James nodded in acknowledgement. He couldn’t form the words to reply, but his target wasn’t her face so much as her throat. A pearl necklace for her pearl necklace.

She was still dripping with it when she stood up after James had climbed off of her, the come clinging to the hollow of her throat, her collarbones, the pearls. She made no attempt to wipe it off, and some part of James wanted to ask if he could take a photo, one without her face, even. Something to remember the moment by.

And then Harry spoke, and her voice was a cold dose of reality that James could have never seen coming. “This was fun,” she said lightly as she reached for her bag on the dresser, “but I’m not really looking for anything serious right now. You understand, right?”

James stared up at her, naked and silhouetted by the lamplight, still wearing nothing but her pearls, and couldn’t bring himself to feel anything resembling regret even as the wave of disappointment came crashing down around him. 


End file.
